


secrets in the dark

by froggieyama



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Deaf Character, Deaf Sugawara Koushi, Domestic Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Rated T for swearing, Secret Relationship, Training, gay hell, there is a cat in this fic, yaku fuckin HATES kuroo (but not really)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23356888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggieyama/pseuds/froggieyama
Summary: suga and yaku spend a weekend in tokyo together. kuroo's an annoying little shit as always.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou & Yaku Morisuke, Sugawara Koushi/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 3
Kudos: 56





	secrets in the dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanaheil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanaheil/gifts).



Yaku always told himself that he didn’t fall for people easily, especially not boys. But a blinding smile and a fierce yet loving personality had pulled him down into gay hell almost as soon as Karasuno had stepped foot in the gym. That was a few months ago now. Since then, their relationship has evolved from strangers who fought a fierce match of volleyball, to secret lovers, albeit only for Yaku’s sake. 

Trips to and from Tokyo were something they tried to do once a week, This week, it was Suga’s turn to come up to visit. He had sent Yaku a video of him getting on the train a few hours ago, and so now the only thing Yaku could do was wait. He rocks on his feet, nervous. Even though it was only a week since he last saw Suga, the adrenaline of their secret relationship never ceased to create butterflies in his stomach.   
  
The Miyagi train arrives 5 minutes earlier than he is expecting it to. Suga, as usual, gets off the third carriage, barely recognisable under the multitude of layers he is wearing. He wishes he could pull the other boy’s scarf down and kiss him, but the fear of those he knew finding out quickly fills his mouth and his throat, suffocating. Instead, he reaches up to ruffle his boyfriend’s hair, fingers carding through those soft locks still slightly damp from the shower.

“Hi,” Suga’s eyes have about as much love in them as his voice.

“Hey, Kou.” He takes Suga’s backpack off of him. “Let’s go, hm?”

Suga just smiles in response. 

On the way to Yaku’s house, he gets caught up with all the latest Miyagi drama. Apparently, there’d been a massive scandal since the last time they saw each other, and it was enough to fill the 25 minute walk from the station to Yaku’s small home. Suga was a serial gossiper, in enough social circles to get gossip and rumours from pretty much anywhere in Miyagi. As his boyfriend, it was practically Yaku’s job to remember all of the people Suga mentioned and all the details about their lives so he didn’t have to ask Suga who the hell he was talking about. 

“Are we home alone again?” Suga pipes up as Yaku fumbles with his keys. He swallows and nods, trying to avoid thinking about how much control Suga had over him, and how badly it could end. He’d never intentionally use his charm to get what he wanted, but Yaku’s so stupidly soft for him that one pleading look or a pout will melt his heart. 

Yaku finally manages to open the door to his cosy apartment. It’s warm and it’s dimly lit and it’s exactly the place they both need to be. A loud mrrp comes from somewhere on the floor, and Suga audibly gasps and coos to the void lying on the ground. Yaku wonders if he can lose a boyfriend to his cat. He’ll probably google it later. 

“Do you want something to eat?” Yaku asks, placing Suga’s backpack near the entrance and slipping off his shoes.

“Yes please,” Suga follows suit, “I can cook if you want.”

Yaku is also soft for Suga’s cooking. In fact, he’s soft for everything Suga has done, is doing, and will ever do. Suga could come home after killing someone and Yaku would just smile and kiss him. 

A half-hour later, they sit on the floor in the middle of the Yaku residence and slurp down a Miyagi delicacy that Suga refuses to disclose the name of. Yaku’s cat curls up in his lap as he eats, purring as loud as she possibly can. This domestic life is something Yaku craves, something he looks forward to at the end of every stressful week. Sharing a home-cooked meal with his gorgeous boyfriend with a promise of being able to make out after is something that fills him with immense joy. 

After cleaning up their bowls, Yaku wraps his arms around Suga’s waist as he goes through his intense skincare routine, kissing his shoulder blades and pretending that his heart isn’t beating out of his chest. The good thing, if there’s any good in this situation, is that Suga’s hearing aids are off and sitting on the counter. The gentle praises and confessions of affection go unheard into Suga’s skin. 

* * *

Suga’s skin, much like his hair, is always extremely soft. But after a deep clean like this, his skin feels like silk under Yaku’s calloused fingers. He’s lying on Yaku’s tiny bed, skin bare for the world to see except for a pair of tiny volleyball shorts that barely even constitute as pants. Yaku’s sitting on his legs and treating him as if he was a king, giving him all of the kisses that were hanging between them since he got off the train, and all the ones that he wanted to give throughout the week when they weren’t together. 

This boy could ask him for the world and Yaku would try his hardest to give it to him. 

Later, when Suga’s fast asleep on top of him, Yaku dreams of a future when this is the norm for them. 

Somewhere in the small apartment, his cat calls out for them, and he gives her a gentle indication that he’s still awake. She soon enters, not even beginning to stir Suga as she chats about her day much like he did earlier. If his cat were a person, he thinks, she and Suga would be a perfect match. Once she’s finished talking, she curls up with her head on Yaku’s leg and falls asleep, content. 

To be like this all the time, without worrying about his family being home, writing texts in English so his parents couldn’t read over his shoulder, would let his heart settle, if only for a moment. Being around Suga, especially like this, calms him more than he could ever imagine. He only hopes that in just a few months time, when they sit their exams, that he’s studied hard enough to follow Suga.  
  
His eyes wander down from the roof to his sleeping boyfriend, mumbling incomprehensively into the skin of Yaku’s stomach. Suga’s hands, calloused and thin, rest by the sides of Yaku’s ribcage, thumbing over the bones with a gentle repetition. 

“I love you, Koushi,” Yaku whispers to deaf ears. Though he swears, when Suga’s hand squeezes his side, that he heard him.

* * *

Yaku wakes up to a distinct lack of pressure on his chest, which is unusual, to say the least. Normally, Suga dozes into late morning, long after Yaku’s had enough time to panic over just how lucky he is. He sits up and stretches, popping all of his joints as his ears tune in to the sounds of the apartment; his cat playing with a toy, gentle music coming over the radio and Suga singing over it, and the sounds of him readjusting to Yaku’s tiny kitchen as he cooks breakfast. 

He pulls on a shirt he’s positive isn’t his own, not bothering to cover his legs, and follows the smell wafting through the air. Suga’s cooking, much like everything else about him, is heavenly. Today he has blessed Yaku with a Western breakfast of pancakes and fruit, just drizzling the syrup over the pancakes as his eyes fall on Yaku. Concentration melts from his face and turns into something much softer. 

“Morning, love,” his voice falls on weary ears. Yaku closes the gap between them, resting his hands on either side of Suga’s face and looking into those gorgeous brown eyes. Suga, in response, pulls Yaku’s chin up with a finger and kisses him.

His lips taste like chapstick and syrup. He could get lost in that taste forever. 

It ends up being not quite forever, but just long enough for the pancakes to go cold. 

  
  


* * *

Kuroo, the heathen, always finds the worst times to call. Last time he was at Suga’s house he called after Suga had passed out on Yaku’s chest, face dug into his neck and his hair a sprawling, obvious mess. This time? It was just as they’d gotten onto the bustling train, Yaku squished up against Suga’s front, his face warm from the arm that had pulled him in so that his back was flush against Suga’s chest. 

“Oh fuck,” he muttered loud enough for Suga to hear, “it’s rooster-head.”  
The chuckle that radiated from his boyfriend vibrated against his back. 

The call was a video call, but Yaku made sure to turn off his camera before answering.   
  
“Yaku!” the obnoxious voice crackled through his phone, “good morning!”

“Morning, Kuroo-san. What do you want?”

“Well, the Nekoma team and I were planning on going to the festival tonight, do you want to come?”

“Kuroo I… I’m busy.”  
Kuroo scoffed, “you’re always busy, Yaku! Every weekend I ask you out, and you say ‘sorry I’m busy having fun without you’, and I’m starting to believe you’re off with a secret girlfriend every weekend.”   
  
Suga tried to contain a snort. 

“No, it’s not that Kuroo. I just have to help out with my family, y’know? And they’re away this weekend so I have to stay home and look after Mimi. Besides, I see you and the Nekoma team every day anyways. We went out after school 4 times last week.”

“But Yaku,” Kuroo whines, “I miss my little hot-headed libero! Two days is too long of a time to not see you.”  
“I… we’ll go get ramen tomorrow night, yeah?” Yaku knows better than to argue, even if he’d much rather spend the night after Suga leaves reliving the last 48 hours over and over.

“Okay! I’ll see you then Yaku-chan!”  
“Stop calling me that.”   
“Bye Yaku-chan!”   
“Oh fuck off.”

Yaku breathes a sigh of relief when the call ends, and Suga erupts in a fit of giggles he’s been trying to contain.   
“Don’t you dare,” Yaku warns.   
Suga has a shit-eating grin on his face and Yaku doesn’t even need to see it to know. “Oh Yaku-chan! Ditch your secret girlfriend to come hang out with me!” He mocks, putting on a voice Yaku can only describe as a poor attempt at a chicken-human.

It takes everything he has not to curse. Suga knows what all his buttons are and knows exactly how many he can push before Yaku gets mad for real. 

“I hate you, Suga.”  
“Oh you know you love me.” 

Yaku hates that he’s right.

* * *

The gym, like always, is empty. Yaku has the captain’s keys because not even the coach trusts Kuroo to remember them. If there’s one good thing Kuroo’s done, it’s be forgetful so that Yaku can take his secret boyfriend to train in the school gym on weekends. Suga takes a deep breath in, relishing in the disgusting, yet somewhat natural, smell of the gym. 

“What do you want to practice?” Yaku asks, changing into his volleyball gear. 

“You know the thing where like…” Suga tries to think of how to say it, “where you are like leaping for the ball?”  
“The one where you have to get it behind you?”   
“Yeah!” Suga’s face lights up. 

Yaku’s not the best teacher, but he tries. He explains how to time the leap, and then how to direct the ball backwards, and then watches as Suga pieces the two together, albeit slowly, following everything Yaku says. Suga’s a good listener. Whenever they train together Suga begs Yaku to teach him some fancy libero trick. If Nishinoya wasn’t such a good libero already, Suga would easily meld into Karasuno’s libero position like it was made for him. 

A half-hour later, Yaku’s patience is wearing thin, but Suga’s determined to get it right. He’s got the form for it, it just needs practice. Yaku remembers Nekomata drilling it into him for a whole training session when he was first learning. Now it feels like second nature. 

“One more,” Suga says in between pants, shirt already discarded on the floor somewhere. The muscles beneath his skin all move in perfect harmony every time he moves. The glistening sweat only adds to the eye candy.   
  
He throws it, a perfect arc, and Suga leaps, the ball hitting his arms square as he pulls them back. It’s a clean hit, coming off his arms with no spin and without a lot of noise. The ball comes right back to Yaku, easy enough for him to catch it without moving, and Yaku feels pride fill his chest. He always does, when Suga finally gets something right. 

Suga’s smile beams. It’s blinding Yaku but he doesn’t really care. It could burn him alive and he’d just stand there in awe.  
“I did it!” he exclaims. “Yaku, I did it!”

Smiles are infectious. He feels himself grinning much the same as his boyfriend. 

  
“Again?” Suga pleads, eyes filled with determination.   
  
Yaku wants, no, _needs_ to see that joy in Suga’s face again.   
  
“We have all day, Kou.”

* * *

[inspo tweet!!](https://twitter.com/goboee/status/1241094490800021505)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading this fic!! i wrote it in about two hours (not including editing) and i really love it. thank you so much to heil for sending the tweet to me and mentioning that they were boyfriends. now i'm in (another) rarepair hell.
> 
> once again: i am currently on break because of covid so please give me prompts/ships (haikyuu only)


End file.
